


Never That Simple

by celebel



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: ((think again)), Alcohol, Alternative title for this fic:, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Drunken Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Jhye Richardson is too good for this world, Kiss and make up ((out)), M/M, Making Out, Making Up, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Obliviousness, POV Alternating, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, also bg pitch because where would i be without these assholes, because none of this would've happened if theY'D JUST HAD ONE (1) SOBER CONVERSATION OH MY GOD, i need to stop writing ash/aj as a bg ship and actually write a fic just about them again, whoops spoilers but you knew how this fic was gonna go because it's me writing it lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celebel/pseuds/celebel
Summary: “Look,” Jhye says, sitting up and tugging Ashton along with him. He gestures pointedly as he speaks, motioning at Ashton, and then at the bar where Cameron and the rest of the Warriors are. “You and Cam very obviously have the hots for each other.”Ashton snorts. “That’s im-”“Say 'impossible' and Iwillsmack you, vice-captain or not.”
Relationships: Cameron Bancroft/Ashton Turner
Comments: 18
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To the lovely anon who asked me for some AshCam <3
> 
> If it helps, everyone calls Cameron Bancroft either 'Cam', 'Bangers', or 'Bang', except Ashton Turner who calls him 'Cameron'.
> 
> Same way everyone calls Ashton Turner 'AT', and it's only Cameron Bancroft who actually calls him 'Ashton'.
> 
> And to make things a little more complicated for later chapters (and potentially other fics), everybody calls second Ashton (Agar) just 'Ash'.
> 
> Also little things which may be confusing for non WA peeps: Fremantle (or just Freo) District Cricket Club is the grade cricket club Ashton, Jhye, Sam Whiteman, the Marsh bros play for. They're called the Port Boys because Freo is well,,,, a port city lol. Willetton DCC is Cam, Simon Mackin, and D'Arcy Short's club and they're called the Dragons.
> 
> I know what goes on with WA grade cricket can you tell lmao
> 
> <s>someone save me i have no life</s>

The nighttime air is cool against his flushed cheeks, and Ashton shivers as soon as he steps out of the bar, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

Almost immediately, he spots the person he’s looking for, sitting on a nearby ledge with his back turned to the festivities taking place inside the building. Ashton can’t help his fond smile as he ambles over, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Knew I’d find you out here,” he says, announcing his arrival as he drops himself onto the ledge and swings his long legs off the edge. Jhye stiffens at the sudden disruption, before visibly relaxing with a quiet exhale when he realises it’s only his vice-captain.

“Where else would I really be?” Jhye huffs, offering Ashton a small grin as he shifts across to give him some room.

“I don’t know.” Ashton shrugs. “Could be going absolutely wild on the dance floor, breaking a few hearts at the bar-”

“Oh, stop it,” Jhye interrupts, rolling his eyes and punching Ashton lightly on the shoulder.

“Hm, mean,” Ashton sighs dramatically, fishing out the Coke Zero he’s been hiding in one of his jacket's pockets and popping it open. Jhye’s eyes widen comically when he hears the can’s hiss, and Ashton smirks. “And here I was, thinking I was gonna be a nice vice-captain and give my favourite fast bowler his favourite drink for his efforts in the field over the past four days-”

Right before he tips the drink into his mouth, the can is snatched from his hand. Momentarily stunned, Ashton blinks a couple of times, before a warm laugh bubbles from his lips and he shakes his head.

“Great work this week, kid,” he says, reaching over to ruffle Jhye’s hair.

“I’m only three years younger than you, AT…” Jhye grumbles, batting the offending hand away as he attempts to hide his wide grin behind his newly acquired can of soft drink. Ashton allows himself a small chuckle at the sight, and is untroubled when they lapse into comfortable silence after the familiar exchange; one they’ve been having since their club cricket days. Early on, it had been obvious that Jhye wasn’t one for over-the-top celebrations, even more so the celebrations involving copious amounts of alcohol. Thus, Ashton had taken it upon himself to make the young fast bowler feel like a part of the team however he could, often leaving said alcohol-fuelled celebrations early to find Jhye and give him a few words of congratulations or advice, whichever ones he felt he needed on the day.

Jhye sighs none-too-quietly and leans back on his elbows to look at the sky, bright with the watery outline of the full moon. Ashton arches an eyebrow, managing to catch Jhye’s gaze.

“Just thinking,” he offers.

“Try not to think too hard, you might hurt yourself,” Ashton teases, prodding Jhye in the middle of his forehead and earning another punch in the process. “Nah, but seriously, you did really well this game, so don't stress out about it too much. I don't think I'll be able to handle Cricket Australia’s future, fast bowling poster-boy having a meltdown on me, especially when I’ve already got one overthinker of a housemate to put up with once I head home.”

“That’s no way to talk about your boyfriend,” Jhye mumbles, smirking when Ashton splutters beside him.

“My _what_?” Ashton feels his cheeks redden and knows he can’t blame it on the alcohol, having not had a drink since he came out here.

“You. Bangers. Boyfriends. Come on, I thought you'd love the idea of being significant others, partners, lovers, sweethearts-” he sing-songs in reply, placing his elbows on his knees with his chin in his hands. His Coke Zero presses against his cheek, held loosely in his grip as he looks up at Ashton with feigned innocence in his wide eyes.

“Oi, shut it,” Ashton mutters, smacking him upside the head and taking small pleasure when a few droplets spill from the can onto Jhye’s jeans. “We have a perfectly functional, platonic relationship, and I have no desire to change that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jhye says with a pout, scrubbing fruitlessly at the new stains on his jeans with his free hand.

“I am _not_ interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with Cameron and I never will be,” he declares, unsure if it's really Jhye or himself he's struggling to convince with bitter words which twist his mouth into a frown. “He’s not into guys, I’m not into guys, and hell, what part of him is boyfriend material anyway? Like I mentioned before, he overthinks things too much, and God, it’s so annoying sometimes. He didn’t perform in this match we’ve just had, so do you know how much moping I’m gonna have to put up with after tonight? How much he’s gonna bug me for extra throwdowns way after everyone’s packed up and gone home after training? And fuck, don’t even get me started on how he is at home. Every morning, he wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn just to slam a medicine ball on the concrete right outside my window for like half an hour. Bloody plyometrics, I can’t remember the last time I managed to sleep in on the days we don’t have training! Also, I get he wants to save money, but with him, it’s like, air conditioning on if it’s 45 degrees only, and five-minute showers or he’s busting down the door. Far out, I think he forgets that I pay the bills as well!”

Ashton winces, the final words echoing down the deserted street. Had he really been talking that loudly? There’s a hollow clink of aluminium on stone, and he turns to Jhye.

“You done yet?” he asks flatly, inspecting the his empty can's nutrition label with a decidedly bored look.

“I… yeah,” he replies, biting his lip and looking away.

“Right,” Jhye says brightly, clapping his hands together to get Ashton to meet his blue eyes. Immediately, his face hardens into something Ashton only sees right before he charges in and bowls a 145 km/h bouncer at an unsuspecting batsman. “You don’t seriously expect me to believe that you meant anything you just said. Do you.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and Ashton knows he’s been caught out.

His shoulders slump as he runs a tired hand over his face and breathes a barely audible “no” Jhye has to strain his hearing to catch.

“Thought so.”

“Don’t have to sound so smug about it,” Ashton says sullenly as he falls onto his back. The stone tiles beneath him are cold even through his jacket and shirt, and the visible stars above the city wink mockingly down at him. For once, he’s glad that light pollution prevents more of them from witnessing his embarrassment. "Fuck, am I really that obvious?"

“If it’s any consolation, Cam hasn't exactly been discreet either,” Jhye says, leaning into Ashton’s line of sight.

“…what?”

Jhye gapes at Ashton, pointing at the bar, then at Ashton, then back at the bar. His mouth opens and closes rapidly, yet no sound comes forth. The silence stretches out between them, and just as Ashton's about to make a joke about how he looks like a stunned mullet, Jhye throws his hands up with an undeniably frustrated groan and flops down beside Ashton, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“_Please_ tell me I don’t have to spell it out for you."

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to,” Ashton manages, very much aware of how dumb he sounds, especially when Jhye lifts his arm and fixes him with the most done expression he has ever seen on the face of a 21-year-old.

“Look,” Jhye says, sitting up and tugging Ashton along with him. He gestures pointedly as he speaks, motioning at Ashton, and then at the bar where Cameron and the rest of the Warriors are. “You and Cam very obviously have the hots for each other.”

Ashton snorts. “That’s im-”

“Say 'impossible' and I _will_ smack you, vice-captain or not,” Jhye cuts him off, tone low and dangerous. Ashton gulps, refraining from mentioning that Jhye has already hit him twice. “I don’t take part in post-game celebrations much, but it’s obvious that you’re always the first person he seeks out after a win, loss, whatever. Yes, even after Freo v Willetton games. Sure, he always seems to be in a bad mood whenever Willetton loses, but why is it the first person he ends up with just happens to be Freo’s captain? It’s the same with you if Freo loses, by the way. Also, nobody misses the way you guys have your little on-field cuddles after one of you takes a catch or runs someone out. Not gonna lie, everyone thought you two had finally gotten your shit together when he asked you to move in with him at a New Year’s party of all goddamn places, but it turns out not-”

“He only asked me because he needed to split rent with someone, and we’ve known each other for years so he knew he could… trust me…” He trails off towards the end of his sentence when he notices Jhye’s murderous expression at being interrupted.

“Spare me the ‘childhood best friends’ talk,” Jhye scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “God, I feel like I’m living in some B-grade rom-com with the amount of dancing around each other you guys do without actually getting to the point.”

“Yeah, the point being that Cameron doesn’t-”

“Point being that your dear _Cameron_ is obviously just as head-over-heels in love with you as you are with him, and don’t you even try to deny it.” Jhye silences him with a look when he opens his mouth to protest, and he sits back demurely, fiddling with his jacket’s zipper for a long while.

“Shit,” he breathes finally. “I _really_ like him, don't I, Jhye? I don’t want to risk fucking this up. I don’t know what I’d do if I did. Hell, it’s more like I _can’t_ risk fucking this up,” Ashton admits, unable to keep his fear of ruining one of his oldest friendships out of his voice. Detecting this, Jhye inches into his personal space, nudging him in the side.

“You won’t.” His voice is steady, the words sure as he says them.

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s you two,” Jhye replies with an easy shrug. “If I had to name a pair who could make something like this work, it’s gotta be you and Bangers.”

At that, Ashton smiles, no, _beams_ at Jhye whose cheery expression is a mirror of his for a moment, before it falls into something a little self-conscious.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. “All that was really out of place. I don’t want to seem like a dick for saying all that, but…”

“But I really needed it. I get it,” he finishes, meeting Jhye’s eyes with a smaller, but just as genuine smile. “Thanks.”

“No worries.” Jhye grins back at him, and they fall back into easy silence once again, the only sounds around them being the celebrations which are still going on in full force in the bar at their backs and the occasional car which drives down their street.

A cool breeze suddenly blows by, ruining the moment somewhat when Jhye shivers, quickly getting to his feet with his empty can in hand.

“I’m gonna get myself another one of these,” he says. “Want anything?”

“Nah, I'll be fine. Reckon I’ll stay out here a little longer, though.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

Ashton throws a wave over his shoulder and hears Jhye’s footsteps disappear into the din of the bar. Peering up at the sky, he allows himself a quiet laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, leaning back onto his arms. “We’ll make it work, alright.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see that tasty misunderstandings tag at the top there? sTRAP YOURSELVES IN BITCHES WE'RE HERE FOR A BUMPY RIDE

_“We like to drink with Bangers, ‘cause Bangers is our mate! And when we drink with Bangers, he does it all in eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!”_

The sound of Cameron slamming his empty glass onto the table is lost beneath the wild cheers of his teammates, and he graciously accepts all of their back pats and high fives.

The bar is quite busy for a Sunday night, but such is to be expected when it’s packed full with three cricket teams. Cameron doesn’t usually mind crowded places, but he does mind not being able to find Ashton in the sea of plastered Western Australians, sulking Tasmanians, and quiet Englishmen who are more or less keeping to themselves while watching Cameron and his teammates with vague bemusement. Look, he’s going to be real honest here, it may only be a single Shield game win they are celebrating here, but WA tends to be a bit bad at four-day cricket, so they’ll celebrate winning their first match of the season however they wish, judgement from the Poms be damned. 

The rest of the Warriors have moved on to egging on Marcus, and Cameron manages to catch the back of Mitch’s shirt.

“Don’t wait up!” he yells, leaning in to be heard above the slurred singing and loud music pouring from the tinny speakers.

“Mate, I have no idea what you just said!” Mitch shouts back, but figures out what Cameron intends on doing pretty quickly. “AT?”

Cameron nods, slipping away from his teammates and somehow finding himself at the front of the bar. He calls for another drink from the bartender and leans back against the counter, scanning the crowds of people for his best friend. 

Just as he’s thinking about asking one of the Tasmanians if they’ve seen Ashton, his gaze drifts to the doors of the bar, flung wide open with two familiar silhouettes just visible in the darkness beyond. 

Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Ashton always seeks Jhye out after every game no matter what. He's even left mid-conversation with Cameron to find his fellow Port Boy on a few occasions. Cameron makes a face at those memories, but hides it behind another sip of his drink. Damn, how much has he been drinking that he can't control his irrational jealousy? Of course Ashton would feel some sort of loyalty towards Jhye, the both of them having played together for Freo for ages, but surely their childhood friendship trumped that, if only by the smallest of margins. Also, Cameron is pretty sure Jhye isn’t the one with the massive crush on Ashton. Or at least, he doesn’t have a crush on Ashton as big as the one Cameron has, because nothing’s beating that and that is a **_Fact_**. Stupid Jhye Richardson, getting all of Ashton’s attention without even having to ask for it-

Cameron decides to halt that train of thought right there by downing the rest of his beer. Mitch and JL don’t need to deal with the repercussions of one of their opening batsmen curb-stomping an up-and-coming fast bowler for spending too much time with the vice-captain said batsman happened to have a crush on the size of the fucking MCG. 

_It would make one hell of a headline, though,_ Cameron admits to himself with a chuckle, pushing his way to the door, determined to spend more time with Ashton against his better judgement.

A cool nighttime breeze hits him as soon as he steps out, and immediately, all his thoughts fly to Ashton. 

_How long has he been sitting out here? Does he have his jacket with him? What if he catches a cold? What if-?_

All his internal worrying is brought to a screeching halt as soon as he hears Ashton’s loud declaration of “I am _not_ interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with Cameron and I never will be.”

_What are Ashton and Jhye even talking about?___

_ _Cameron swallows, mouth suddenly impossibly dry. He should turn back. Staying and listening will only hurt him more than those initial words from Ashton already have._ _

_ _Yet Cameron, ever the masochist, ever so fucking weak when it comes to anything involving Ashton James Turner, finds his feet moving against his will, silently carrying him closer to where Ashton and Jhye are sitting, facing away from him._ _

_ _“He’s not into guys,” Ashton continues, and Cameron nearly laughs out loud at that._ _

_If only you knew._

_ _“I’m not into guys, and hell, what part of him is boyfriend material anyway?”_ _

_ _Boom. There it is._ _

Cameron feels like a pit opens in the bottom of his stomach. He feels his blood turn to ice in his veins, the frozen shards cutting their way to his heart – _through_ his heart – piercing, slicing, mangling everything in their path until there is nothing but a gaping hole in his chest. He tells himself there’s got to be a reason Ashton is saying what he’s saying to Jhye and not to him, but he can’t think of anything. He wants to run, but finds himself rooted where he stands.

_ _“Like I mentioned before-” Before? So, Ashton had been talking to Jhye about him for a while. Cameron feels sick. “-he overthinks things too much, and God, it’s so annoying sometimes.”_ _

_Annoying._

_ _The word echoes through his mind, spoken harshly in Ashton’s voice. Fuck, is that really what he thinks of him? For better or for worse, Cameron doesn’t have enough time to dwell on that single word, because Ashton is speaking again, spitting all his thoughts he’s kept repressed for God knows how long. _ _

_ _“He didn’t perform in this match we’ve just had, so do you know how much moping I’m gonna have to put up with after tonight? How much he’s gonna bug me for extra throwdowns way after everyone’s packed up and gone home after training?”_ _

_ _Cameron bites his lip and looks away, unable to keep his eyes fixed on Ashton’s back any longer. He feels his hands trembling at his sides and flexes and clenches them a few times to try to get them to still. His coaches all throughout his junior days had always told him he got way too emotional over his and his teams’ performances. At Ashton’s words, memories of all his blow-ups over the years flash through his mind._ _

_ _Shouted obscenities._ _

_ _Thrown objects._ _

_ _Sulking for hours on end._ _

_Ashton._

_ _Throughout all of it, Ashton had stayed. He’d been a constant by Cameron’s side. He’d always been the one to bring him back down throughout all the years they’d known each other, calm and unmovable despite the storms Cameron kicked up._ _

_ _But it finally seems like Cameron has worn him down far enough._ _

_ _“And fuck, don’t even get me started on how he is at home. Every morning, he wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn just to slam a medicine ball on the concrete right outside my window for like half an hour. Bloody plyometrics, I can’t remember the last time I managed to sleep in on the days we don’t have training!”_ _

_ _It hurts to breathe. His breaths are harsh and ragged to his ears, but it’s nothing compared to the volume of Ashton’s angered shouts. He clutches at his chest with a shaking hand, the cheap, cotton t-shirt he’s wearing crinkling and stretching irreparably in his strong grip. It hurts to hear all this. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it-_ _

_ _“Also, I get he wants to save money, but with him, it’s like, air conditioning on if it’s 45 degrees only, and five-minute showers or he’s busting down the door. Far out, I think he forgets that I pay the bills as well-!”_ _

_ _At that, Cameron’s legs finally listen to him and he takes off back into bar, ignoring how his eyes burn with unshed tears and how he’s essentially gnawed a bloody hole in his bottom lip. _ _

_ _He shoves his way blindly through the crowd, their annoyed shouts barely audible over the ringing in his ears. He bumps into someone and feels beer spill down his front, but can’t bring himself to care. _ _

_ _He ends up in the bathroom, hunched over a sink with his fingers gripping the porcelain basin so hard his knuckles turn white. He swipes furiously at his eyes, splashing cold water on his face in an effort to make himself seem somewhat composed. He knows it hasn’t worked as soon as he looks in the grimy mirror which probably hasn’t been cleaned since the bar opened. _ _

_Fuck it,_ he says to himself when his breathing eventually returns to a somewhat normal rate. Pushing away from the sink, he throws the bathroom door open and strides over to the bar where most of the boys appear to have migrated to and are now doing shots. 

_ _There’s an empty seat beside Mitch, but at the moment, Cameron doesn’t think he can sit next to a Port Boy, lest he do something stupid. He settles for squeezing in next to Simon whose brow furrows in concern._ _

_ _“You alright, Cam?” Simon asks. _ _

_ _The question doesn’t carry above the music blasting from the overhead speakers, but Cameron understands it well enough. Instead of answering, however, he grabs the shot glass Simon is holding and throws back its contents, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it goes down._ _

_ _Knowing his friend is in no mood for talking, and that any pushing or prodding will only result in worsening Cameron’s already foul mood, Simon signals for a couple more shots. Hesitantly, he slides one over to Cameron who downs it as quickly as the first. _ _

_ _The rest of the night passes in a colourful blur for Cameron with only a few episodes standing out in particular. He remembers downing drink after drink at the bar for what felt like hours, uncaring for how much he was bound to find his wallet hurting in the morning. That was a problem for future Cameron to handle._ _

_ _There was a funny incident he remembers giggling through, involving one of his teammates dragging him over to introduce himself to his Ashes competition. He thinks it might've been the wicketkeeper who greeted him with a cheerful headbutt, but who’s even checking at this point._ _

_ _He also recalls bumping into Jhye towards the end of the night and the younger man asking if he was okay, which was a dumb question because no, how the fuck could he be okay after hearing his best friend and crush of like, forever complain about him to… who was Ashton bitching to again? Right, it was Jhye! Jhye who was standing in front of him. Jhye who was feigning concern for him after all the things he heard from Ashton. How fucking dare he-_ _

There was a punch. Or, well, an _attempted_ punch which ended up being interpreted as an awkward, one-armed hug and Cameron’s entire body weight slumped against Jhye who struggled to keep them both standing (Good, let the poor kid struggle. It was nothing compared to Cameron’s internal struggles). Someone had eventually peeled him off and murmured something about how it was time to go home, though, ruining all his fun.

And then, he was gently being shaken awake in a cab. He has no recollection of falling asleep or even getting into the cab, for that matter, but there had been a soft voice in his ear and a very comfortable shoulder he had been leaning on. Mr Soft Voice had somehow gotten him out to the front door of his house, but after that, Cameron can’t be sure how accurately his memory serves him, because when Mr Soft Voice had eventually managed to drag him through familiar hallways and into bed, Cameron noticed that Mr Soft Voice had pretty, grey eyes which looked very much like _Ashton’s_ pretty, grey eyes.

But Ashton wouldn’t do this for him. One of the many drinks Cameron had downed must’ve been spiked or something, but he couldn’t say he was complaining. Not when he could pretend that Mr Soft Voice With Ashton’s Pretty Grey Eyes was actually Ashton when he leaned over to tuck Cameron's blanket securely around him, making sure he would be comfortable throughout the night.

And _especially_ not when when his last memory before his eyes slid shut is of not-Ashton brushing a soft kiss against his forehead and wishing him sweet dreams.

And if he really did have sweet dreams of Ashton that night (Ashton's soft lips against his, his fingers intertwined with Ashton's as they walk down the street, waking up in the morning with Ashton's sleepy, grey gaze being the first thing he sees, Ashton, Ashton, _Ashton-_), who ever has to know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon, i hope i've done justice to your request of realisation of feelings, angst, confusion, and misunderstanding so far ;)
> 
> y'all know where to [find me](https://somesunnyda-y.tumblr.com/) as usual :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is deadass longer than the last two combined lmao. Consider yourself warned.

Cameron tugs the zipper on the last bag shut with a sense of finality and allows himself to fall face-first onto the plush hotel bed.

He’s fucking exhausted after the game against the Strikers today, and for once, he regrets his organised nature which had refused to let him rest until he’d finished packing all his stuff for the flight back to Perth. Sure, they are only scheduled to depart pretty late tomorrow afternoon, meaning he would’ve had heaps of time to pack in the morning, but he’s always liked being structured with these things. Not ‘fussy’, as all the WACA boys like to call it, just _structured_.

_Definitely fussy,_ a familiar voice sings in his head, and something in Cameron’s chest aches.

When was the last time _he_ had teased Cameron like that? Or rather, when was the last time Cameron had allowed himself to be teased by _him_? Certainly not after that night. After that night, Cameron had promised himself he’d never open up to Ashton again. What was the point when all of it was such a bother to Ashton anyway?

One would think the entire avoidance routine would've been difficult for Cameron, given he and Ashton are housemates, yet it was surprisingly easy to keep himself from being the one to initiate conversations and reply to Ashton with simple one or two-word answers. If anyone (read: Ash who was back early after breaking his finger in Indore and was making himself an absolute pest with his incessant questioning) asked if anything was up between them, Cameron would simply shrug and say that he was tired with his preparations for his first Test tour. It wasn’t a complete lie, but Cameron can still recall all those lonely nights spent in the indoor nets with only the automatic bowling machine to keep him company when before, he would’ve had Ashton laughing to the point of tears whenever Cameron had allowed himself to be convinced to attempt reverse sweeping 140 km/h deliveries while they were both manic with sleep deprivation.

Things had gotten easier once he’d flown off to join the national side in Brisbane. For starters, he no longer had to delude himself into thinking the annoyed face Ashton made whenever he got another monosyllabic response was actually one of hurt. Ignoring texts and dodging phone calls also became a lot easier when he gained the excuses of time differences, training and bonding with an entirely new team, and the occasional Test match, of course. 

<s>Nobody had to know about how he’d nearly fallen off hotel beds after hours of sleeplessness on more than one occasion whenever he’d heard the buzz of a text message or incoming call on his phone.</s>

<s>Or how he’d force himself to ignore the itch his fingers got to just tap the notification or pick up the call to apologise for everything he’s felt for the better part of the decade, in favour of staring at the screen until it went dark or he passed out from exhaustion.</s>

<s>Or how he’d cried when the slowing trickle of texts inevitably dried up sometime around the Boxing Day Test, and Shaun had simply crossed the room they’d been sharing and held him with no questions asked.</s>

When he’d finally returned to Perth, it had been easy to let himself get swept up in the hype of the BBL. He’d put in more hours than strictly necessary in the nets to switch into his white-ball mindset after three months of red-ball cricket and swapping rooms had just been too easy. Being a senior player in the Scorchers squad with an additional five Test caps to his name sure has its benefits, especially when he’s able to ruthlessly intimidate any of the rookies they’d gotten this season into exchanging key cards with him.

Which is how he’s ended up with this spacious, single room here in Alice Springs. Cameron feels a little bad, having taken it from Tim who he still manages to terrorise despite being a whole half-foot shorter, but he tells himself he’s doing it all for the greater good. 

There’s a crash and giggling down the hall from Cameron’s room, making him lift his head from where it had been buried in the soft pillows. Distantly, he recalls Joel inviting him down to the hotel to get celebratory drinks with the boys. He’d politely declined with the excuse of needing to pack which wasn’t a complete lie, but he had no intentions of repeating the same mistake from all those months back. In fact, since that night, he hadn’t had more than a couple of beers in one sitting, even after Australia had reclaimed the Ashes.

There’s more laughter, this time with some exasperated shushing. Cameron spares a glance at the bedside clock, and his eyes widen when the numbers 12:17 stare back to him in a sickening shade of neon green. Their game had finished around 5:30 that afternoon, the debrief from JL had only taken half an hour, meaning they’d gotten back to the hotel right before 6:30 when Joel had extended the invite… shit, just how much had the boys drunk for ‘celebratory drinks’?

He’s contemplating ushering in whoever it is outside into his room to save them from the earful they’ll inevitably get from JL who’s a little further down the corridor from him, right when there’s a loud knock and even more muffled sniggering.

Fuck, guess he’s got no choice in the matter anyway.

He rolls off the bed with a resigned sigh and drags his feet to the door, fixing a scowl on his features. He throws open the door, ready with a snarky comment which gets caught in his throat when he finds his arms full with an evidently sloshed, very giggly, 6’3” hard-hitting all-rounder who's got a busted shoulder.

“Wha- AT?” Cameron chokes, and oh yeah, another thing: he’d taken to referring to Ashton as ‘AT’ like the rest of their teammates. He’s got no right pretending or even thinking he’s special in any way. Besides, Ashton didn’t question the sudden switch, so it must’ve meant it was something he’d wanted since the beginning, right?

“AT, get back here!” Will stumbles down the hall, dragging Ash bodily along with him. Thankfully, Will looks sober as he chases after Ashton. The same can’t be said for Ash, however, who is just as much a plastered, giggly mess as Ashton. “Oh, thank God it’s only you, Cam. For a second there, I was afraid he’d gone and knocked on JL’s door or something.”

“Boz, what the hell happened with these two?” Cameron asks, subtly attempting to peel Ashton off him. His actions only seem to further Ashton’s clinginess, and Cameron ends up with Ashton’s arms around his shoulders in a very tight, awkward, drunk hug. Ashton’s face is buried in the juncture of his shoulder and neck, and Cameron hopes Will chalks up the flush he feels creeping across his cheeks to the warm, Alice Springs weather.

“Fuck if I know, mate,” Will grunts, pulling Ash’s arm over his shoulders when Ash begins to sway dangerously on his feet. “Joel, the other lads, and I only had a couple of drinks before we went back to our rooms to rest up for tomorrow. These two clowns wanted to stay and chat for a little bit, but when Ash didn’t show back at our room about an hour ago, I went down and found them like this with the bartender threatening to call the manager and have all of us thrown out, press be damned.”

“Ouch,” Cameron says with a wince. “Any idea what Ashton squared were talking about to get them like this?”

“No clue and neither one wanted to tell me anyway,” Will replies, pushing his free hand through his hair. “‘Scout’s honour’ or some bullshit. Like, what the fuck, was AT even a boy scout back in the day?”

“No, he wasn’t,” Cameron answers immediately, surprising even himself with the speed at which he'd answered. Will blinks owlishly at him, and Cameron looks away, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Ashton’s messy hair brushes the tips of his fingers, and he jolts, his cheeks colouring further. “At least not that I know anyway.”

There’s a beat of silence in the hallway which is broken when Will huffs a fond laugh, shaking his head.

“Of course you’d know.” Will smiles, readjusting the arm over his shoulders and making Ash start awake from where he’d seemingly fallen asleep standing upright. “Well, I know Vogesy won’t be banned for the next game, but we’re still gonna need your roommate in one piece. See you around, Cam. Night.”

“He’s not my-,” Cameron starts, but Will is already halfway to his and Ash’s shared room. He lets out a long exhale, jostling Ashton who appears to also have fallen asleep against him in the short time he and Will were talking. It’s probably more trouble than it’s worth trying to find out which room is Ashton and Tim’s, and Cameron sighs. “Come on, let’s get you inside, Ashton.”

The name slips out before he even has a chance to stop himself, and the both of them freeze.

Cameron has his gaze trained on Ashton, ready for anything. He’s prepared for a frown, a scowl, a drunken fit, or even a punch, but what he’s not prepared for is the large smile which lights up Ashton’s face and makes Cameron go weak at the knees.

_God, I’ve missed his smile._

“You never call me Ashton anymore,” he slurs, and Cameron doesn’t reply. Instead, he guides Ashton to the bed and lets him collapse there, and when Ashton opens his mouth to say something, Cameron turns on his heel, quickly making his way to the safe haven of the bathroom. He grabs a cup from one of the shelves beneath the sink and turns on the tap at full blast.

“What are you doing, Cameron?” he mutters to his reflection in the mirror. Tired, blue eyes stare back, offering no help.

There’s a loud thud, and Cameron is snapped rudely back to the present. Cold water spills over his hand holding the cup, and he swears quietly, seeing he’s overfilled it. He tips some out and hurries back to the bedroom.

“Oh, what the hell-” Cameron half-throws the cup onto the table, uncaring if some of its contents slosh onto polished wood, and helps Ashton back onto the bed from where he’s sprawled across the floor.

“Thought you left,” Ashton mumbles, hooking an arm around Cameron’s shoulders and allowing himself to be pulled off the ground.

“Was just getting you some water, Asht- AT,” Cameron corrects himself, looking away before he can see the face Ashton makes. He grabs the cup of water he’d brought from the bathroom and thrusts it at Ashton. “Here.”

He expects the cup to be taken from him, but drunk Ashton has more surprises in store for him.

Ashton stares at him with for a few seconds, eyes completely unreadable, before lifting one of his own hands and curling his fingers over Cameron’s which are now trembling slightly. His grey gaze has Cameron trapped in place as he gulps down the water, and he only lets go after what feels like an eternity.

“R-right,” Cameron stutters, standing up stiffly and taking a step back. “Guess I’ll just…” he trails off awkwardly, setting the cup back down on the table with a loud clink which makes the both of them jump. “Sorry… I guess I’ll… You… Y-you can have the bed tonight. Don’t think there’s any real point trying to get you back to your own room, and Tim’s probably asleep by now as well-”

“But where will you sleep?” Ashton interjects, cocking his head to one side. 

“I’ll take the couch.”

Ashton’s eyes widen at that. 

“But it’s your room!” he protests, struggling to get out of the bed. “You went through all of that trouble swapping with Tim, and then you were also keeping in 35 degree heat today-”

“Stay there, dumbass!” he yelps, clapping his hands on Ashton’s shoulders and pushing him back down, all the while ignoring the way his heart skips a beat when he realises that Ashton had thought about him during their game today. “It’s really fine-”

“It’s really _not_,” Ashton states flatly, fixing him with a hard stare. “The bed is big enough anyway, we can share-”

“No!” he says, a bit more forcefully than intended. There’s a flash of hurt in Ashton’s grey eyes, and Cameron feels awful. “I mean, no, you don’t have to. There’s really no need-”

“I won’t try anything funny, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ashton murmurs, and Cameron bites his lip.

“That’s not…” Cameron stops himself, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. “That’s not what I was worried about. Look, AT-”

“Ashton,” he blurts, and Cameron inhales sharply. His voice drops to a soft plea. “Please call me Ashton. I miss it.”

_I miss you,_ Cameron bites back, blunt fingernails digging painfully into his palms.

“Alright… Ashton,” he breathes eventually. “What’s going on? Why did you drink so much today? You’ve always been the one to keep your emotions in check no matter the situation. This isn’t like you-”

“If I tell you, will you sleep with me?”

Cameron nearly chokes on his tongue, and Ashton immediately realises his mistake, face turning beet-red.

“Not in that way!” he clarifies hurriedly, waving his arms around. “Just… you know. Actually sleeping on the bed. With me. But not in a weird way, of course. Not that anything of that sort is weird, like hell, we’ve got Ash and AJ, and Mitch has Pat, but you don’t need to take the couch, because I won’t-”

“Okay,” Cameron says, catching Ashton’s wrist before he’s nearly whacked in the face by a flailing hand. Ashton freezes, and Cameron closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. The little voice in the back of his mind asks him what he’s doing taking advantage of Ashton’s intoxicated state for a few selfish hours. He ignores it, opening his eyes to repeat himself. “Okay.”

Ashton gapes at him. Cameron raises an eyebrow in response and has Ashton scrambling to make space. Not fully in control of his limbs, Ashton only ends up knocking a few pillows onto the floor and tangling himself hopelessly in the blanket. 

“Hold still, loser,” Cameron says, genuinely laughing for the first time in three months as he retrieves his pillows and stills the squirming, Ashton-shaped lump with a few gentle touches. He crawls onto the bed and peels the blanket away from Ashton’s face with a grin. “There, much better.”

“Yeah…” Ashton murmurs distractedly as his gaze sweeps across Cameron’s face. It lingers on Cameron’s lips, and all of a sudden, Cameron is hyperaware of the distance, or lack thereof, between them. Ashton’s head is tilted at the perfect angle that if Cameron were to lean in that fraction of an inch, he would close the distance between them and-

Cameron pulls back abruptly, avoiding Ashton’s eyes as he yanks back the blanket and stiffly lays down as close as he possibly can to the edge without falling off.

There’s a long moment of silence, before Ashton gives a weary sigh and plops his head right over Cameron’s rapidly thumping heart and slings an arm around his middle.

“Ashton! What the fuck-?” Cameron yelps, starting at the sudden contact. He flails around for something to hold onto and somehow ends up grabbing onto Ashton’s leg.

“Jhye was wrong,” Ashton mumbles, and Cameron freezes, nearly missing the words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“…what?” From the way Ashton’s head is pillowed on his chest, Cameron can’t see Ashton’s face to gauge his reaction, yet he still feels the arm around his waist tighten. No reply comes forth, and Cameron raises his free hand tentatively. It’s shaking slightly, and for a split-second, he worries if he’s overstepping his boundaries.

_Fuck it,_ he decides, settling it on the top of Ashton’s head, carding his fingers through brown strands and deciding that Ashton’s hair really is as soft as he has imagined it being.

“Ashton,” he murmurs. “Talk to me, mate. What was Jhye wrong about?”

“You don’t love me anymore,” Ashton blurts, and when Cameron looks up, he can see the shine of tears in grey eyes. The sight hurts more than everything he’s felt in the past few months, and he finds himself lost for words as Ashton continues speaking, ignoring how Cameron’s fingers are probably digging uncomfortably into his thigh and how they’re both dangling precariously off the edge of the bed. “Maybe you never did in the first place, but Jhye was so sure you felt the same way about me that I did for you. I was so sure as well, and I was gonna ask you out the day after we won our first Shield game of the season, but then all of a sudden, you wouldn’t talk to me, you wouldn’t do anything with me, you… you didn’t want anything to do with me! Ash said you were just tired preparing for the Ashes, but you’ve always talked to me about those things, like before your first T20 international, or our first Australia Under-19 tour. When you left, you wouldn’t answer my texts, you wouldn’t pick up my calls, you didn’t… I can’t… I don’t know what I did wrong to ruin everything. Please, Cameron… tell me what I did. I’m so sorry, and I swear didn’t mean to do whatever it was. I just want to go back to us being friends, and I’m sorry I ruined what we had before. I promise I’ll put away my feelings, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, and fuck, I’ll do anything if it means you’ll say more than two words to me at a time, just please… talk to me.”

Tears are flowing freely down Ashton's flushed cheeks by the time his voice cracks on the last word, and Cameron wants to do nothing more than kiss them away and tell Ashton that he shouldn’t be the one apologising. He holds himself back, though, settling for continuing to run his shaking hand through Ashton’s hair.

“What about all of those things you told Jhye?” he asks, and even through Ashton’s shining eyes, Cameron can still see the confused look he’s being fixed with. Taking a breath, he drags up his hazy memories of Ashton’s words, trying his best to distract himself from the sting of it by reaching up and wiping away Ashton's tears. “You said I was annoying and flat-out said you weren’t interested in, you know… being with me in that kinda way. I thought it would be in both our best interests if I gave you some space after I heard that-”

“No, Cameron, you’ve got it all wrong, don’t you see?” Cameron can’t help the confused face he pulls at those words, or the awkward silence which follows. Ashton rolls his eyes so hard Cameron is afraid he’s going to hurt himself, but ends up finding he need not worry when Ashton drags them both into the middle of the bed at a speed that should not be possible for someone who has been drinking for most of the evening and night. Cameron yelps as he is thrown against the pillows, and Ashton pins him in place by seating himself in his lap, forcing shocked, blue eyes to meet determined grey with a firm hand at his jaw. “It’s called being in denial, Cameron. _I_ was in denial and have been for so long. Too long, really. Jhye called me out on all of it, and if you’d listened for a couple more minutes, you would’ve heard him absolutely ripping into me, forcing me to see what has been right under my nose all these years.”

“And what is that, Ashton?” Cameron asks, wanting to hear the words right from Ashton’s mouth despite having a pretty good idea what he’s talking about. Feeling particularly daring, he pushes himself up onto one elbow and lets his other hand wander to the back of Ashton’s neck, tugging him lower. “What has been right under your nose all this time?"

“The fact that I’m so fucking in love with you,” Ashton breathes and seals his lips over Cameron’s.

Cameron moves the arm he’s propping himself up on, tangling both of his hands in Ashton’s hair and pulling him down against his chest. Ashton slips on the smooth sheets at the sudden action, breaking the kiss with a soft gasp, but manages to catch himself right before his forehead collides with Cameron’s by planting his forearms on either side of Cameron’s head just as their noses brush against each other. Cameron tugs on Ashton’s brown hair, drawing a low moan from him and allowing Cameron to slot their mouths together once more, hungry and desperate as he sucks on Ashton’s top lip. Ashton responds in kind, tracing the plush swell of Cameron’s bottom lip, before digging his teeth lightly into it once in warning. Cameron hardly has any time to figure out what he intends, before Ashton is dipping past the seam of his lips, licking into his mouth and mapping out the back of his teeth. A small whimper escapes Cameron’s throat when Ashton’s tongue skims over the roof of his mouth, and his fingers tighten on the short hairs at Ashton’s nape, making him shudder at the sensation and curl his hands into fists in the bedsheets. The kiss tastes too much of cheap beer and tears, and Ashton’s over-enthusiasm makes their teeth click together more than once, but Cameron would not have it any other way as he lets himself melt in the heat of Ashton’s kisses. Distantly, he knows should find it embarrassing, how easily he surrenders control and goes all soft and pliant beneath Ashton, yet when Ashton curls his tongue around his, the rest of the world goes fuzzy around them, and Cameron can’t bring himself to care about how all his pants, sighs, and desperate, little groans echo throughout the room. 

“Ashton,” he whines when he turns away to breathe, incidentally giving Ashton access to his bared throat. Ashton sucks a mark onto his suntanned skin while one of his hands moves to the hem of Cameron’s shirt. The feeling of warm fingers against his stomach jolts him rudely back to reality, and he clears his throat, repeating himself a little louder and more insistently. “_Ashton_.”

“_Cameron_.” Ashton looks up with spit-slick lips and pupils blown wide. The sight has Cameron squeezing his eyes shut, counting to ten and back to physically stop himself from tearing their clothes off and letting Ashton have his way with him.

“Let’s not do this,” he says, opening his eyes. “At least not tonight.”

There’s a flicker of confusion across Ashton’s features, quickly replaced with panic as he begins to scramble backwards.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I read the situation wrong? Fuck, shit, Cameron, I’m so s-”

“Shh, no, no, you have nothing to apologise for,” Cameron shushes Ashton gently, grabbing his wrist to calm him. “If anything, I should be the one apologising. Look, Ashton, you’re drunk right now. This isn’t the best time to do things like this. I don’t want you to end up regretting anything tomorrow-”

“I won’t,” Ashton states. “I know that I want you, and you…” He pauses to grind his hips against Cameron’s, smirking when Cameron barely manages to muffle a moan behind his hand. “Want me.”

“I do. Trust me, Ashton, I do.” Cameron pushes Ashton off him lightly, but firmly so they both end up sitting cross-legged on the bed, knees barely brushing each others.

“Then what’s the problem?” Ashton starts, reaching towards the waistband of Cameron’s shorts. “Do you not want-”

“Ashton, stop,” Cameron interrupts, catching Ashton’s hand. Slowly, he raises it and skims a kiss into its palm, smiling when he hears Ashton’s sharp intake of breath. “I do want you. I’ll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe me. I just… don’t want our first time to be like this. I don’t want our first time to be some drunken, half-remembered night for you. I want you here.” He twines his fingers together with Ashton’s as he continues speaking. “With me.”

Ashton stares at him for a long moment, before raising his other hand and cupping the side of Cameron’s face. His thumb swipes across his cheekbone, and his fingers move to the edge of his jaw, pulling Cameron closer while he leans in to press a chaste, closed-mouth kiss to Cameron’s lips. 

“Okay,” he whispers in assent, leaning his forehead against Cameron’s.

“Okay,” Cameron repeats, quite content to lose himself in Ashton’s warm, grey eyes, until the tiredness of the day finally catches up with him at that very moment, and he can’t stifle his yawn. “Right now, though, we should…”

“Sleep,” Ashton finishes for him with a smile, mirroring their position from earlier and laying his head on Cameron’s chest when he collapses back onto the bed. He sighs contentedly and lets Cameron’s steady heartbeat slowly pull him under as a soft kiss is dropped to the crown of his head. A couple of questions still play on Cameron’s mind, though, and he resolves to ask them before sleep fully clouds his mind. 

“How many drinks did you even have at the bar today?” he asks. Ashton doesn’t seem to mind the change in conversation, and he counts silently to himself, before freezing suddenly. 

“I ran out of fingers,” he whispers, looking up in childlike confusion. Cameron lets out a booming laugh.

“Alright, mate. Next question then,” he says eventually, shaking his head. “What were you and Ash even talking about today? I get we won, but it wasn’t _that_ big a win, was it?”

“Excuse you, I was captaining,” Ashton says with a pout. Cameron can’t help it as another chuckle escapes him, seeing his normally composed best friend (boyfriend now? They'll have to sort out labels tomorrow) behave so out of character. 

“Apologies,” he says through a grin, not sorry in the slightest and determined to continue this line of questioning, because sober Ashton would definitely have kept any embarrassing stories about Ash to himself out of consideration. “Really, though, what was it?”

Ashton squints at him. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Scout’s honour,” he says solemnly, repeating Will's words from earlier.

“You absolute dick,” Ashton grumbles, headbutting Cameron’s chest. “I’m not telling you shit.”

“Alright, alright,” Cameron chuckles. “I promise.”

“Ash misses AJ,” Ashton says without missing a beat, and Cameron blinks.

“AJ has literally been gone for five days,” he deadpans.

“I know!” Ashton exclaims. “And Ash is acting all like they’ve just gone and broken up forever! Like they don’t FaceTime for like, two hours every day! God, those two are so disgustingly in love, I have no idea how they lived without each other before. I wonder how Mitch and Jhye are holding up with AJ on the other end in Melbourne, like he’s really not that much better with this stuff, and…”

Cameron smiles as Ashton continues his impassioned rambling, simply content to sit back and memorise everything from the slope of Ashton's nose, to the cut of his jaw, to the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, to the Cupid’s bow of his kiss-swollen lips. It isn’t long before yawns begin to punctuate Ashton’s statements, though, the gaps in between his slow blinks growing shorter.

“I’m probably not gonna remember much of this in the morning,” Ashton sighs, slurring even more than before. 

“If you remember anything at all, that is,” Cameron jokes as he pulls their twined hands to rest on the other side of his chest, right in Ashton’s direct line of sight. 

“Yeah,” Ashton agrees with a sleepy laugh, tilting his head up to meet Cameron’s blue gaze which watches him adoringly. “You’ll be here to recount everything to me tomorrow, though, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Cameron affirms, his free hand slipping past Ashton’s shirt and the low ride of his shorts to curl around Ashton’s hip, squeezing it reassuringly. His eyes slide shut, and he feels, rather than sees, Ashton turning and leaving a lingering kiss right through the thin material of his shirt. 

Ashton brings their hands to his lips to leave one last kiss against Cameron’s knuckles, and they fall asleep like that, no further words needed for either of them to interpret the silent confessions pressed against each other’s skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I live for comments, kudos, and/or feedback here, or on [my Tumblr](https://somesunnyda-y.tumblr.com/) :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters just keep getting longer and longer huh ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It’s blessedly dark when Ashton wakes, the only visible thing in the room being the hazy outline of the drawn curtains haloed by early morning light. It’s probably the best scenario he could’ve hoped for, given his brain feels like it wants to leak out of his head via his ears and die in a drainpipe. That would probably be for the best if Ashton were being perfectly honest with himself. He’s not sure he deserves a brain anymore, especially after the ridiculous amount of drinking he and Ash did yesterday.

Ashton groans, turning onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillows. Every joint in his body hurts, and his mouth tastes like something died in it during the night. With another pained moan, he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. If he’d forgotten to put it in to charge, he’s honestly prepared to smother himself with the hotel pillows right here-

_That’s odd. Where’s the table gone?_

His fingers curl into rumpled bedsheets. Strange. He’s sure his bed isn’t this big. Surely his hungover brain is just messing with him, and he’s just misremembering the size and/or side of the bed the table is really on-

_Okay, what the actual fuck?_

His other hand fumbles and flops around on the seemingly unending bed, searching for a table which simply isn’t there. It’s at that point that Ashton decides that he should probably look up. 

He squints as he hauls himself up into a sitting position, but unfortunately for him, he’s not quite sure the sight that greets him is enough to convince him that he isn’t still drunk. 

The bed he’s on is much bigger than the one he’d slept on yesterday, and if that isn’t already odd enough, Tim’s bed is also nowhere to be seen, a plush couch sitting innocently in the far corner of the room instead. Leaning against the wall by what he presumes is the door out, are a couple of suitcases and a Scorchers kit bag which are all decidedly not his despite looking somewhat familiar. Ashton can’t seem to muster enough brainpower in the current moment to figure out where he’s seen them before, though, and he opts to let his narrowed gaze skim across the rest of the unfamiliar room, taking in everything from the differently coloured curtains, to the 40” smart television mounted on the wall.

“Where the fuck am I?” he mumbles, though his last two words are cut off abruptly when he feels an uncomfortable bubbling in his chest and throat. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he zeroes in on the second door in the room, stumbling over at a speed that doesn’t even give his brain time to feel woozy. His eyes widen upon hearing a surprised squawk which is nearly lost beneath the loud bang of the door against the wall when he pretty much kicks the damn thing open.

“Ashton? What are you-?” Cameron breaks off with another yelp as Ashton roughly pushes his way past him and all but pukes his guts into the toilet. 

Ashton’s fingers clench around the porcelain rim, turning the skin of his knuckles white as a fresh wave of nausea hits him. He’s pretty sure the sounds he’s making as he retches into the bowl aren’t human, but he can’t seem to care too much when all his body can focus on is forcibly ridding itself of the fuckton of toxins he’d essentially shoved down his own throat the night before. Faintly, he feels someone rubbing his back soothingly through it all, their soft reassurances only audible in between Ashton’s dry-heaves.

He flops gracelessly next to the rubbish bin once he’s done, throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them from the harsh glare of the ceiling lights. He’s too busy moaning pathetically about how his throat burns that he doesn’t register the toilet flushing or the tap running, until there’s a cool towel against his forehead. Ashton jolts at the unexpected contact, before realising he has nothing to fear when the figure kneeling over him slowly comes into focus.

“Cam…ron?” he croaks. The bathroom lights have been dimmed, but he catches the flash of white teeth when Cameron offers him a small smile.

“Shh, it’s alright, Ashton,” Cameron shushes him softly when he tries to speak again, pausing to brush aside a few damp strands of hair plastered to Ashton’s forehead. “Just lie back for a bit.”

“What… what happened last night?” Ashton presses the heel of his palm to his throbbing temple.

Cameron chuckles softly, shaking his head fondly. “Well, you drank a lot, for starters.”

Ashton bites back a snarky "yeah, no shit", settling for a soft hum instead and letting the refreshing cool of the bathroom tiles seep through the back of his skull to make his brain feel a little more alive. Slowly but surely, he’s able to make out more of Cameron’s features as his eyes adjust to the dim light. 

Cameron’s watching him with a warm, yet slightly distracted look as he continues wiping clammy sweat from Ashton’s forehead. He’s got the corner of his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as if he’s holding himself back from saying something. As Ashton’s gaze travels lower, he notices a tiny nick against Cameron’s throat and some leftover foam along the line of his jaw. He feels slightly guilty with the realisation that him barging in like he did, surprised Cameron enough to have a little shaving accident.

“You’re bleeding,” he murmurs absently, making to wipe away the tiny droplets of blood beading across the thin cut. As his thumb skims across Cameron’s warm skin, he catches sight of a dark discolouration over Cameron’s pulse and freezes. 

It’s a hickey. There’s no way it could be anything else. Ashton knows Cameron is a young, healthy, adult male who can get it on with whoever he chooses, yet he can’t help the way his mouth goes dry as he tentatively traces the blurry outline of the bruise.

Fingers wrap around his wrist, firmly pulling his hand away. He looks back at Cameron’s face and feels his stomach twist when he sees the blank mask which has replaced Cameron’s previously fond expression. 

“We should talk,” he says after a gulp. Ashton nearly misses the flicker of concern in blue eyes when Cameron releases his hand, and it falls limply to the floor with a low thud. “You should probably get cleaned up first, though. Spare towels are on the rack over there, there are some toothbrushes in the cabinet under the sink, and yeah… I’ll leave you to it. Just yell if you need anything, I guess…”

Cameron gets to his feet, determinately not meeting Ashton’s eyes as he slips back into the bedroom. Ashton allows himself a moment, before he hauls himself to his feet and tugs off his clothes from the night before. The warm water streaming from the showerhead does little to soothe his aching joints as he leans against the back wall of the bathroom and slides to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. 

Ashton simply sits there in the darkness for a long while, unable to move with the million unwanted thoughts and questions weighing on his mind. He reminds himself he has no right feeling jealous of whoever left that hickey on Cameron’s neck. Cameron doesn’t, and probably never will feel that way about him. He just needs to come to terms with that, no matter how difficult it may be. A small part of Ashton feels somewhat hurt that his best friend had not thought to tell him who he’s been getting handsy with, but he quickly silences it with the fact that he and Cameron have been drifting apart for months now. Cameron is under no obligation to tell him anything about his private life anyway, and who’s he even kidding, can he and Cameron even be called best friends anymore?

With a sigh, Ashton tilts his head back. His open eyes sting slightly, yet even he can’t tell if it’s because of the tepid spray, or the tears that may or may not be trickling down his cheeks.

Eventually, he forces himself to finish his shower, also managing to brush his teeth in the process, though the latter isn’t actually that hard with his mouth tasting like roadkill. As Ashton towels his hair off, he reaches for his clean change of clothes where he usually leaves them by the side of the sink-

_Ah, fuck. Not again. Not like this._

Ashton’s hand curls into a fist in the empty space as he weighs up his two options, the first of which involves sneaking his way to his and Tim’s room in his currently underdressed state, and the second being he just gets over himself and asks Cameron if he has any spare clothes. The former is shaping up to be the more preferable option, up until he remembers that Tim is unlikely to be awake before noon and sleeps like a fucking rock. Ashton may be trying to give Cameron the space he’s made very clear he wants, but does he really want to be caught half-naked in the hallway lined with the rooms of the entire Scorchers squad, banging on his door like an utter maniac?

He fixes his towel around his waist with a sigh and pokes his head out into the bedroom. “Cameron?”

Cameron hums in acknowledgement from his spot on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to his phone as he fires off a text. 

_Probably to whoever he’s seeing at the moment. Who else would he really be texting at this hour?_ Ashton’s unhelpful mind supplies as he grinds his back teeth together, taking a deep breath.

“DoyouhaveanyspareclothesallofminearebackinmyroomandTimisprobablystillasleepand-”

“Woah, hang on there, Ashton,” Cameron says, holding his hands up. Ashton’s mouth immediately snaps shut and he looks away, his cheeks heating. “Mind repeating all that a little slower this time-?”

“Do you have any spare clothes?” he grits out, stepping into the room. Immediately, Cameron flushes a deep shade of red, and his eyes widen. Sure, Ashton does have his towel held around his waist, but who would’ve thought Cameron would be uncomfortable with the concept of nudity after years of enduring the WACA boys’ blasé attitude to it in the changerooms? Maybe that’s just Cameron’s reaction to Ashton, though. Yeah, that’s probably it.

“Yeah, uh, sorry, I should’ve realised…” Cameron clears his throat and gestures vaguely at Ashton. “Lemme just get…”

“Hm, what-?” Ashton falters as Cameron pushes himself off the bed and strides towards him, making him take an unconscious step back. Cameron doesn’t seem to notice his reaction and brushes past Ashton who finally realises that he’s standing in the way of Cameron’s bags.

“Don’t have any clean shirts, so this will have to do,” Cameron says, holding up a neatly folded stack from where he’s kneeling in front of his unzipped suitcase. Ashton blinks for a second, before remembering that the clothes are in fact for him. “Hopefully everything there fits you well enough.”

“Thanks,” he manages stiffly, reaching for the outfit and accidentally brushing his fingers against Cameron’s in the process. Whether it is static electricity from the carpeted floor or something else entirely, something sparks between them and Ashton flinches violently, throwing himself backwards against the wall with his eyes wide and breaths rapid.

“Ashton?” Cameron asks, brow creasing with concern as he stands. “Is everything al-?”

Ashton darts into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him before he has the chance to hear the last part of Cameron’s question. There are only his ragged breaths echoing through the empty bathroom and the loud pounding in his ears as he presses the heel of his palm to one of his closed eyes. 

Why can’t he just act normal around Cameron? He’s managed to hold it all together before today, putting his feelings out of the picture to give Cameron the space he evidently wants. Admittedly, it has been, and still is a pretty hard thing to do, given everything he and Jhye talked about after their victory over Tasmania. He’d been so stupid to get his hopes up after that one conversation, though. Even if Cameron had felt something for him back then, he clearly didn’t now. While Ashton had initially tried to believe that Cameron’s change in mood was something temporary, and he really was just stressing over preparations for his first Test tour as he’d told Ash, that obviously hadn’t been the truth. Cameron had ignored all his texts and calls while he was away, and when he’d finally returned for the second half of the BBL season, he’d been just as cold and aloof as before. Ashton still didn’t know what he’d done – it simply _had_ to have been something he’d done, what other explanation was there for Cameron’s sudden indifference towards him? – and it wasn’t like he could figure it out himself with the two, maybe three if he’s lucky, words Cameron would spare him at any given time. 

Perhaps today is his lucky day, though. The two conversations he’d had with Cameron had each lasted longer than all those they’d had in the past three months combined. Cameron had also implied that he was willing to talk more. About what, exactly, he isn’t sure, yet Ashton trusts enough in his conversational skills to use this one opportunity to get Cameron to tell him what’s been bothering him all this time. 

Once his breathing evens out, Ashton inspects the bundle he’s been clutching to his chest since Cameron had handed it to him. 

He doesn’t pay much attention to the underwear or shorts as he puts them on. Sure, the shorts ride a tad higher up on his thighs than he would like, but such is to be expected given the physical differences between him and Cameron. Also, as Cameron had mentioned, he hadn’t given Ashton a shirt to change into, instead giving him a black hoodie which just has to suffice until Ashton gets back to his own suitcase.

As Ashton threads his arms through the sleeves, he mentally readies himself for the impending struggle of having to squeeze himself into a garment a couple of sizes too small, but is more than surprised to find it slips effortlessly over his head.

The dark hoodie is soft and slightly faded from countless wears and washes. Its sleeves fall midway down Ashton’s palms, the fraying cuffs irreparably stretched from their owner’s continuously pulling up of them to his elbows. Curiously, Ashton picks at the corner of the hood and inadvertently catches a whiff of his and Cameron’s laundry detergent, the cheapest Head & Shoulders shampoo money can buy at their local Woolies, as well as something vaguely familiar he can’t quite place his finger on. Ashton buries his nose in the fabric before he can think any better of his actions and immediately finds his senses flooded with vivid sights and sounds. A conversation barely remembered from a few years ago rises above it all, and Ashton stops dead as the memory plays at the forefront of his mind.

_Cameron, are you cold?_

_Fuck off, Ashton. No, I’m not._

_Mate, you’re fucking shivering!_

_Quit fucking laughing!_

_Aw man, just wait ‘til Ash hears about this. He’s never gonna let you live this down._

_It’s the middle of spring! In Spain! How was I meant to know it was gonna get this fucking cold?_

_Ash specifically told you to pack a couple of jumpers in case of days like this. Oh well, no point in complaining about it now. Here, take this._

_…Ashton, what’s this?_

_Didn’t know the cold messed up your brain that much, mate. It’s my hoodie-_

_Exactly, it’s **your** hoodie! Now you’re gonna be cold!_

_Nah, don’t worry about me. Got a couple more back at the hotel. Unlike someone._

_Oh, fuck off. Really, though, Ashton, there’s no need-_

_It’s this, or you’re buying a new one while we’re out here. With your own money._

_…I’ll take your hoodie._

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Ashton blinks, and the bustling, sunlit streets of Barcelona fade around him, leaving him back in an empty hotel bathroom in Alice Springs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _It shouldn’t be a big deal. Hell, before today, Ashton hadn’t even realised he’d been missing this hoodie. Actually, Ashton reckons he’s missing a fair few hoodies, and that probably says quite a lot about the (dis)organisation of WA’s vice-captain, but that’s hardly the point at the moment. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He leans heavily against the sink and squeezes his eyes shut, attempting to quieten his mind which swims with recent revelations and a dozen new questions all revolving around one man. A long minute has him swearing quietly and running a tired hand over his face, deciding there’s no point in getting caught up in theories and assumptions. All those are what got him into this mess in the first place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Turning the tap on, Ashton splashes icy water on his face, before meeting his reflection’s hard, grey gaze._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_Fuck it,_ he tells himself, straightening up. He allows himself one last deep breath as his hand tightens around the cold bathroom doorknob, and he pushes the door open.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Immediately, he catches sight of Cameron. He’s not sitting on the edge of the bed like before, but is instead pacing anxiously around the room. As soon as he hears the tell-tale creak of unoiled hinges, Cameron’s gaze snaps to Ashton, and neither is unable to help his sharp intake of breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I’m sorry, Cameron-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“This is all my fault-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Both of them freeze, staring at each other with wide eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Ashton, there’s nothing for you to apologise for-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I’m making you uncomfortable just by being here, how is this your-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _They stop once again, confusion hanging thick in the air around them. It is Ashton who breaks the long silence first, though, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Okay, stop. Let’s take it back a little, and I’ll go first.” He clears his throat, clapping both of his hands together and pointing them at Cameron. “Cameron, I am so sorry. It was very unprofessional of me as WA’s vice-captain to have gone out and gotten shitfaced with Ash and crashed at your place. I did not respect the boundaries you set in place, and I am sorry I made you uncomfortable-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Cut all the professional bullshit, Ashton,” Cameron says, cutting him off with a frantic look. “None of this is your fault, and you have nothing to apologise for. All the blame rests on me. For everything. I misunderstood the initial situation three months ago, and then I acted childishly cutting you off like I did. I am the one should be apologising for treating you the way I did without even trying to talk it out first, and again for taking advantage of the state you were in yesterday out of my own selfishness. You were drunk last night, you were in no state to have known what you were saying or doing, and I shouldn’t have let things escalate like they had. I fully understand if you never want to speak to me again, and I-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Last night-?” Ashton means to phrase it as a question, yet Cameron doesn’t seem to notice in his flustered state and talks right over him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes! Last night was all my fault and don’t you even try to deny it. I should’ve made more of an effort to-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“That’s not what I meant at all, Cameron,” Ashton interrupts quietly, fixing Cameron with a look which makes him halt mid-sentence. “What happened last night?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Cameron gulps. “You don’t… you don’t remember?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Well, I recall the boys leaving me and Ash alone to do our thing at the bar,” Ashton starts slowly, hazy visions of the night before flashing before his eyes. Most of them involve lots of giggling, tears, and shoving alcohol of a wide variety of toxicities down his throat alongside Ash, and Ashton winces. “But after that… yeah, it’s not quite all come back to me yet-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You kissed me,” Cameron blurts, and Ashton feels the blood drain from his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Oh my God, Cameron, I literally rocked up to your room at ass o’clock at night completely shitfaced, forced myself on you, and you’re telling me it’s not my-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“No, no! It was nothing like that!” Cameron clarifies hurriedly. “We talked about… things before that, and I might’ve kissed you back. Or maybe I kissed you first, and you were the one… kissing back…” Cameron’s voice trails off into a soft mumble as he looks away, face practically glowing red as he shuffles from foot to foot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Did anything…” Ashton gestures vaguely. “You know, _happen_-?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“No, of course not!” Cameron’s gaze snaps back to Ashton’s face, blue eyes begging Ashton to believe him. “I would _never_ do that to you, Ashton. You were drunk and upset and-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“It’s okay, Cameron,” Ashton says, managing a small smile which seems to drain some of the tension from Cameron’s shoulders. “I trust you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Those last three words fall from his lips before Ashton fully realises what he’s said, and Cameron somehow flushes even darker. The sight makes Ashton want to do nothing more than kiss the stupid man in front of him, yet when Cameron moves to scratch the back of his neck, his fingers drift over the side of his neck, drawing Ashton’s gaze right to the angry, purple mark right over his pulse. Cold reality washes right over him, and Ashton looks away again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I should probably go,” Ashton intones, struggling to keep his voice level as he turns to the door. Cameron’s probably happy with his girlfriend or whoever he’s got at the moment. He doesn’t need Ashton’s feelings complicating everything for him more than they already have._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What? Why?” Cameron blinks, shaking his head. He reaches forward and catches Ashton’s wrist. “Ashton, we haven’t even talked about-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What’s there to talk about?” Ashton whirls around, tearing his arm away like Cameron's touch burns him. He can hear his voice rising with emotion, but he can’t hold it back anymore, not when Cameron’s looking at him like he is with those blue eyes he’d fallen in love with long before he’d even realised it. “I… I kissed you! You can stop pretending to be nice now, Cameron, I fucked up! Just say it! I fucked up last night, I fucked up at the start of the summer, and I fucked up way before that! I’m so in love with you, but I didn’t realise it until it was too late. Now, you’ve gone and gotten yourself a girlfriend, and I’ve probably screwed that over for you too! Honestly, it’s all I ever seem to do-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Wait, girlfriend?” Cameron’s brow furrows. “How-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“How do I know you have a girlfriend?” Ashton presses the heel of his palm to his forehead as he barks a hoarse, maniacal laugh. “Cameron, you don’t have to tell me for me to put two and two together! Who else would you let leave a hickey on your neck? God, she’s in town right now, isn’t she? You probably had a date night planned, but I also ruined that for you by being an absolute fuckwit and rocking up drunk last- _mmph_!”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Ashton’s words are cut off as Cameron crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. Ashton’s eyes widen in surprise, and he tries to pull away, but Cameron’s hands are tangled in his hair, holding him firmly in place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Cameron, what-” _What are you doing? You have a girlfriend! I can’t get in the way of that!_ he intends to say once Cameron breaks the kiss.__

_ __ _

__

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Stop it,” Cameron interrupts him once more, leaning their foreheads together. “Don’t… don’t say all those horrible things about yourself. They’re all untrue, and I don’t want to hear them.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“But your girlfriend-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Ashton, I don’t have a girlfriend,” Cameron says, looking right at Ashton and making him stop dead. “I don’t want a girlfriend, and I never will.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“But then… who…?” _Who left the hickey on your neck?_ he tries to ask, but his mouth has gone dry. Cameron seems to understand his question, though, and huffs a soft laugh as he frees a hand to grasp one of Ashton’s.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You weren’t lying last night when you said you weren’t gonna remember much,” he teases, placing Ashton’s hand over the stupid mark. “You did.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I did that?” Ashton gently swipes the pad of his thumb over the bruised skin, staring at it disbelievingly. A thought flashes across this mind and panic threatens to overwhelm him for a second. “Oh my God, Cameron, did I-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I let you, Ashton,” Cameron shushes him gently. “Don’t worry.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“But… why?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Isn’t it obvious?” he chuckles as he moves Ashton’s hand from his neck to lace their fingers together. “It’s because I’m in love with you too, dumbass.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hearing Cameron’s confession, so full of love and sincerity just for _him_, renders Ashton speechless. All there is for him in that moment is how full his heart is with happiness that it overflows onto his cheeks

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Don’t cry, Ashton,” Cameron murmurs, his hand sliding from the back of Ashton’s head to frame the side of his face. His thumb swipes across Ashton’s cheekbone, wiping away a tear. “It’s alright.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I know it is,” Ashton laughs wetly, meeting Cameron’s worried, blue gaze with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “I’m sorr-.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“No more apologies,” Cameron cuts him off, leaning forward and planting a light kiss to the side of Ashton’s mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said you have nothing to apologise for. If anything, it’s me who should be-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“No.” Ashton shakes his head. “Not from you either.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You don’t even know what I did!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I know you were an idiot, but what’s new,” Ashton says, giggling when Cameron glares at him. “If it’s any consolation, I reckon I was as well.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You hardly remember anything, and we still need to talk-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“We will,” Ashton affirms, slipping an arm around Cameron’s waist to pull him even closer. “We have more than enough time to do that, though.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _At that, Ashton dips his head and captures Cameron’s lips with his own._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The kiss starts gentle and sweet, Ashton making a conscious attempt to take it slow. Cameron’s hand slips to the back of Ashton’s neck, tugging him down to get better access to his mouth, and Ashton can’t swallow his groan as Cameron pushes up insistently against him. As their mouths move against each other’s, Ashton lets Cameron manoeuvre him through the room, until he feels the backs of his legs hit the solid bedframe. Cameron shoots Ashton a burning look from beneath his lashes as he breaks the kiss, and that’s the only warning Ashton has, before Cameron pushes him back onto the plush mattress. The soft gasp he makes as he lands is quickly silenced when Cameron crawls over him, straddling Ashton’s thighs and taking the opportunity to slide his tongue past Ashton’s lips. Ashton pushes himself up onto his elbows with a moan as Cameron twines their tongues together, holding him in the kiss until they are both breathless._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Do you think we’re going a little fast?” Cameron asks as he leans his forehead against Ashton’s._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“We’ve known each other for years, Cameron. We don’t need to ‘get to know each other’ like other people do. We’ve both been idiots about this entire thing and wasted so much time already. _Too_ much time, really,” Ashton says after a moment of deliberation. “God, to think I could’ve been kissing you like that for years now.” He huffs a laugh, shifting to grip one of Cameron’s hands, squeezing it reassuringly. “So, no, I don’t think we’re moving too fast. What about you?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I don’t either.” Cameron smiles briefly, before it slips from his features. He gently untangles himself from Ashton, folding his legs on the bed and taking a deep breath to collect himself and his thoughts. “We should probably talk before we do anything else, though.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I hate it when you’re reasonable,” Ashton sighs exaggeratedly as he rolls his eyes, shuffling up the bed next to Cameron. “Okay, talk.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What do you remember of last night?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“It’s all coming back to me in bits and pieces now,” Ashton says, scrunching his nose. “Like I said before, I remember being at the bar with Ash, and then…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_But it’s your room! You went through all of that trouble swapping with Tim, and then you were also keeping in 35 degree heat today-_

_Stay there, dumbass! It’s really fine-_

_It’s really **not**. _

“…we might’ve fought a bit?”

_…you don’t love me anymore… Jhye was so sure you felt the same way about me that I did for you… and I was gonna ask you out the day after we won our first Shield game of the season, but then all of a sudden, you wouldn’t… when you left, you wouldn’t answer my texts, you wouldn’t pick up my calls… please, Cameron… tell me what I did. I’m so sorry… I promise I’ll put away my feelings, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do… just please… talk to me._

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I also might’ve, uh, confessed to you…” Ashton tries to duck his head, but Cameron hooks a finger beneath his chin, forcing Ashton to hold his blue gaze._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What else?” he asks, and Ashton gulps._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_What about all of those things you told Jhye?_

_It’s called being in denial, Cameron. **I** was in denial and have been for so long… Jhye called me out on all of it… forcing me to see what has been right under my nose all these years._

_And what is that, Ashton? What has been right under your nose all this time?"_

_The fact that I’m so fucking in love with you._

“You told me you overheard the things I told Jhye, and we realised the entire thing was just one massive misunderstanding, and then we, uh… kissed.” Ashton feels colour rise to his cheeks as he trails off, Cameron having to strain his hearing to hear the final word of his sentence. The room is silent once again for a long moment, before Cameron lets out a deafening laugh which has Ashton making a face. “What? What’s so funny?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Aw, mate, we’ve just been pashing for like, a straight five minutes like a couple of teenagers, and you’re embarrassed about our kissing last night?” he asks incredulously, before breaking out into another fit of giggles._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Shut up, that’s not it,” Ashton grumbles, leaning over so he can bump his forehead against Cameron’s. “I just can’t believe I completely forgot kissing you like I did and also got jealous over a hickey which _I_ left.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You really are something else, Ashton Turner,” Cameron chuckles fondly, reaching over and brushing a few wayward strands of hair from Ashton’s forehead._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Look who’s talking,” Ashton immediately retorts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Oh, you love it,” Cameron says with a cheeky grin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah, I really do,” Ashton concurs with a loose shrug. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Even if I overthink everything?” Cameron asks, attempting to keep his tone light and playful, though Ashton doesn’t miss the flash of insecurity in his eyes. “Even if I mope around the house for hours if I don’t make runs? Or if I annoy you for extra throwdowns after training’s over? Or if I’m the reason you never get a full night’s sleep-?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Ashton silences Cameron with a chaste, close-mouthed kiss._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes,” he whispers. “I love how passionate you get about cricket, I love how you’re willing to go that extra mile to improve yourself as a cricketer and person, and I love every single one of your odd habits and routines. I love you, Cameron. I’m sorry I ever made you think otherwise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What did we say just now about apologies?” The corner of Cameron’s mouth quirks upwards slightly. “If you get to apologise again, so do I. I’m sorry I made you feel like you did something wrong, Ashton. You were upset, and I avoided talking things out with you like I should’ve. I’m sor-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Apology accepted,” Ashton interrupts. “Technically, that was very nearly two apologies.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“And given the chance, I would’ve made it three. Or four. Maybe five, six, or seven,” Cameron says, looking away. “Ashton, I wronged you in too many ways to count over the past few months, and I don’t understand how you can just forgive me like that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What matters is that I can, and I am. You’ll just have to come to terms with that,” Ashton states firmly, grey eyes intense. There’s a moment of hesitation as he carefully considers his next words. “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Cameron. To do that, we’re gonna have to stop looking back at the past and agonising over things we can’t change. The good times, the bad times, everything from our bust-ups to simply talking to each other like this… I want to have it all with you, but that won't happen if we keep apologising for things which happened before we even got together.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“We’re… together?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Ashton bites his bottom lip, his next words coming out with a questioning lilt at the end of them. “If you want us to be…?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _There’s another brief pause which fills Ashton with dread over the possibility that he’s horribly misread the entire situation and messed up for real this time. It all dissipates when Cameron throws himself at Ashton, though, nearly knocking him back onto the mattress as he frames Ashton’s face with his hands and passionately claims his lips. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes,” he gasps. “The answer always has, and always will be yes when it comes to you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Ashton’s heart just feels so impossibly full at Cameron’s words, and no words are needed to convey all the love he has for the man in his arms when he kisses him again. Quickly, he parts his lips and lets Cameron dive right back in with his tongue, running it along the roof of his mouth and sending a shudder right down Ashton’s spine. In reply, Ashton chases Cameron’s tongue with his own, pressing against it and making Cameron arch against him with a groan which rumbles through his chest and echoes through Ashton’s. When Cameron’s wandering hands eventually stop at his sides, Ashton cups Cameron’s face, letting his thumbs brush over his cheekbones as he relives his memories from the night before which slowly filter back with every insistent press of Cameron against him. Without the haze of alcohol to cloud his mind, Ashton manages to keep this kiss far less messy as he maps the shape of Cameron’s red lips with his own and lets his tongue explore Cameron’s mouth, tasting refreshing mint toothpaste on their intermingled breaths instead of cheap beer. Cameron tilts his head back with a moan, and Ashton slides his hands down to Cameron’s shoulders, moving lower with them to pepper kisses along the cut of his jaw and the line of his throat. Ashton scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin of the hickey he finally recalls leaving the night before and relishes all the desperate, little sounds Cameron makes as he jerks and shifts reflexively in Ashton's lap. The collar of Cameron's irreparably stretched and rumpled shirt slips over a lightly freckled shoulder, and Ashton bites into the newly exposed juncture of Cameron’s shoulder and neck. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh my God, Ashton,” Cameron whines, tightening his grip on Ashton’s hips when Ashton swirls his tongue over the new mark to soothe it. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes, Cameron?” Ashton smirks as he sits up, taking in how utterly wrecked Cameron looks. His eyes are almost completely black, save the thin rings of blue around his dilated pupils. The bite on the opposite side of his throat to the hickey is beginning to bruise, and soft huffs are audible from his open mouth. Ashton can’t resist running a thumb over Cameron’s abused bottom lip, their warm breaths mingling in what little space there is between them. “Think we’ve been here before.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah, though last time, I think it was a little more like…” Ashton trails off, taking advantage of Cameron’s split-second of confusion to throw him back against the pillows in the middle of the bed, pinning him in place by settling into his lap. “This.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Think I could get used to you being on top of me,” Cameron chuckles, the implication in his words making Ashton’s eyes darken and his heart race. Cameron links his hands behind Ashton’s neck. “Still not moving too fast?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“No. Never with you,” Ashton says, allowing himself to be tugged lower. “When’s checkout again?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Not for a fair few hours,” Cameron breathes against Ashton’s lips. "I texted Will to check just now."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Quite a while until that, then,” Ashton murmurs, brushing his nose against Cameron’s teasingly. “Reckon we could figure out a few things to do in the meantime.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Yeah, I reckon we could,” Cameron says, and if they both stumble into the hotel lobby twenty minutes after checkout later that afternoon, and JL yells at them for the entire length of the bus ride to the airport for it, who even gives a fuck? All that matters to Ashton is how Cameron's hand fits perfectly in his like it was made to be. Like _they_ were made to be.

_Together forever,_ Ashton muses to himself when Cameron squeezes his fingers just as the wheels of the plane leave the tarmac.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _It’s something they’ll always be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this final chapter took so long!! Ngl I'm still a little ehhhhhh about it, but hopefully y'all find it alright and I don't cringe too hard reading what I've written in the morning :)))))
> 
> Anyway, leave kudos and/or comments if y'all enjoyed! If that isn't your thing, feel free to visit me @somesunnyda-y on Tumblr :D


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